I know I haven't done a post in a while, but I've been so busy with college work and life in general that I seriously have not been able to find the time. I've decided to "recycle" something I wrote a little under a year ago though, just so you guys have something newer to read. How nice am I?

Anyway, it's not an opinion piece, but a story I wrote for AS English Language. It got me an A and I'm pretty happy with it, although I'm not sure whether the text formatting has copied over the way I want it to from Word. Enjoy the story though, because I certainly enjoyed writing it... I think.Editorial note: Reading through this now (21:50, 19/11/2012) I've just realised my main protagonist is called Sheldon Cooper. It's only just clicked. Oh dear.

The Fallen Streets

Cooper
didn’t trust Kelso; not one bit. It’s like his father had told him, “Believe
nothing, trust no one.” Cooper had never paid much attention to that line as a
teenager; growing up in Los Angeles amongst the buzz of the city required him
to be alert and watch his valuables, but he trusted his friends and family.

His father’s quote was on a
continuous loop inside Cooper’s head as he drove south on Santa Monica Avenue
towards the meeting place him and Kelso had agreed just the day before.

What a difference a day makes.

Cooper had decided he wanted
nothing to do with the street crime business that now ran rife in Los Angeles,
providing constant work for the police department, taking the lives of more and
more innocent soldiers each week. It was those who had nothing to live for that
were the most likely to get involved. Buying and selling the stolen morphine
that proved so vital during the war. Now it was just a hindrance.

Cooper had read a story in the
LA Times earlier that morning. Two ex-marines found dead in their apartment,
tourniquets tied tightly around their forearms, showcasing veins from which
used morphine syringes were protruding.

That story was what changed
Cooper’s mind. He didn’t want to be the man that caused the deaths of brave US
soldiers, striving to discover the life they used to have previous to the war.
It wasn’t their fault that the US government had no idea what these men were
going through; waking up in sweats in the middle of the night, memories of
fallen friends haunting their dreams. Cooper was one of the lucky ones; he kept
his head down during his time in the Rhineland, refusing to make friends with
anyone in fear of losing someone he cared for. He’d spent most of his time bent
over maps, studying enemy strongholds, discussing strategic operations with the
Generals, and then sending soldiers out to die.

Cooper’s determination to stay
detached from everyone meant he didn’t feel the sorrow he could see on many
faces when the names of the dead were read out every Sunday. Of course he still
felt upset, but his complete lack of a social life had pushed his emotions to
the side, he’d become boring and professional. Maybe that was why he was so
wary of Kelso. He hadn’t had a friend for at least four years now, possibly
more. He didn’t know who to trust anymore. He couldn’t even remember the last
time he’d laughed.

Cooper cursed as he drove past the alleyway he and Kelso had agreed to
meet in, shaking away the thoughts that had distracted him. He signalled and
performed a U-turn into the deserted alleyway. It was the perfect spot: quiet,
secluded, dark.

He opened the door of his Buick Business Coupe and stepped out. Santa
Monica Avenue was peaceful tonight; it lacked the usual sound of blaring horns
and screeching tires. It was just him and Kelso, and the little surprise Cooper
had in store. Something Kelso would never expect.He knew what he was doing would endanger his life, possibly keep him
on the run for the next few months, but he could handle himself; he knew what
he was doing. If his plan went as perfectly as he hoped it would, he’d have no
trouble staying on the right side of the law, protected from the drug dealers
and street gangs.

Cooper entered the backstreet alleyway, confronted by a sea of darkness
that was only occasionally broken by small islands of light emerging from the
lamps that lined the walls. He settled himself within one of these islands,
hoping Kelso wouldn’t keep him waiting for long.

He was in luck.

Cooper saw the outline of him through the darkness; he could just make
out the slight bulge of a 9mm Magnum handgun, U.S. Army certified, stolen from
a shipment of weapons and morphine travelling back from Germany.

But Cooper wasn’t alarmed, heck,
this was 1947 Los Angeles, did he expect any less? Anyway, he’d been looking
forward to this all day; the chance to finally wipe the smile off this smug
bastard’s face.

“Cooper! Pleasure to see you
again old chap, how are you? I hope you’re well!” called Kelso, still in
semi-darkness but becoming less elusive with every stride forward. A faded
street light held its ground between the two men.“Cut the crap, Kelso. I’m not
here for small talk.” Kelso stopped in his tracks, apprehensive of Cooper’s
sudden change of tone since their last meeting. “I want out. What we’re doing
is wrong and I won’t be a part of it anymore. Take your stolen morphine and
find another seller. We’re done here.” Kelso moved into the light, one hand
over the deadly weapon.

“I encourage you to reconsider,
Sheldon,” tried Kelso.“I also encourage you to
reconsider pulling that weapon from your pants. Are they silk, Cole? I’m
struggling to see in this light.” At this, Kelso’s face turned a darker shade
of red, much to the amusement of Cooper. This was far too easy.

Suddenly, spotlights illuminated
the area with a glorious white light. Kelso was forced to create a shield with
his forearm. He pulled out his Magnum, firing blindly into the darkness which
surrounded his unexpected moment centre stage. He heard no cries of pain, no
grunts of discomfort. He stopped firing, squinting his eyes in an attempt to
see through the wall of light, for any sign of movement.

As quickly soon as the
spotlights had enchanted the area, their life slowly faded, allowing the
darkness to assault Kelso’s now vulnerable position. However, he didn’t seem to
be in any danger. Cooper was nowhere to be seen.